


Reunion

by tablelamp



Category: Forever (TV), Hornblower (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Companionable Snark, Immortality, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 12:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7532215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/pseuds/tablelamp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry thinks he sees someone from his distant past on the street...but is it really him?  And what will he do if it is?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bbcphile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbcphile/gifts).



> You'll notice at certain points in the story that I've played with both the Hornblower and Forever canons to make both universes fit together neatly. I can only ask the reader's indulgence. :)

Henry glanced at Abe’s enormous paper cup with visible distaste. “Surely that’s not your entire morning meal.”

Abe smiled at his father and lifted his coffee cup in a toast. “Coffee. Breakfast of champions.”

“That it most certainly is not,” Henry retorted as they readied the store for its opening. “And your mother would say the same.”

Abe was always glad to hear Henry mention his mother, even in passing. He knew neither of them would ever get over her loss, but for years, Henry hadn’t even mentioned her casually in conversation. Abe liked to talk about her because he liked to remember her, and he liked to hear what his dad remembered about her, which of course went further back and was in more detail than Abe could remember.

“Mom loved coffee,” Abe retorted. “She’d have one of those chocolate mocha whipped cream things, and you know it.”

Henry softened visibly. “One of the ones with chocolate shavings. Of course she would.” He pointed at Abe. “She would, however, still tell you to eat breakfast.”

“Yeah, I know,” Abe said with a grin, opening the cash register and putting the correct amount of cash in each of the compartments. “You should branch out with your coffee. What about a cappuccino next time?”

Henry snorted. “When you’ve been in His Majesty’s Navy and seen what’s offered as coffee, you’ll find cappuccino seems an unfathomable luxury.”

“Navy, unfathomable—that’s pretty good,” Abe said. He knew from experience that the best way to get his dad to talk about the past was not to ask about it.

“It was unintentional,” Henry said, though a slight smile appeared on his face.

Abe brushed the last bit of dust from the radio sitting in the corner, waiting for the story he was sure was coming.

“Kennedy?” Henry said.

Abe frowned. “What?” He looked up to see his father staring out the window with a stunned expression on his face.

Without a word, Henry crossed the room, hurrying out the front door.

Abe cleared his throat, following more slowly, and locking the door to the store before following his dad down the street.

Henry stood on the corner, looking in every direction in some bewilderment. Abe touched his arm, mindful of the other people on the street around them, people who would look at him strangely if he called Henry “Dad.” “Henry? You okay?”

“Perhaps a distant ancestor,” Henry said, more to himself than to Abe. “Although the resemblance—after years of complicated genetic interactions, surely no descendant could look so like him.”

“Like who? Who are you talking about?” Abe asked.

Henry met Abe’s eyes, and Abe was surprised to see how shaken his father looked. Who had he seen, and how could that person have had such an effect on him?

“Come on,” Abe said, inclining his head in the direction of the store. “We’ll open late and you’ll tell me everything.”

Henry nodded, following Abe back home.

***

Henry sipped his tea, the subtle lemon taste reminding him of his days at sea. Though normally he took milk and sugar with his tea, as Americans tended to do, when he was shaken he found it comfortable to take his tea with lemon instead.

Abe sat at the table nursing his own coffee. He’d been an impetuous boy—sometimes he still was, as far as Henry was concerned—but he knew not to press Henry or hurry him into telling his story, and Henry was grateful for that.

“At some point after I became immortal, I joined the Royal Navy,” Henry said. “I was anxious to hide myself somewhere I was unlikely to be discovered, and I thought assuming a name and becoming a midshipman might suit.”

Abe looked dubious. “You wanted to spend more time on sailing ships?”

Henry chuckled. “Naval battles could be highly chaotic, and it wasn’t unheard of to find struggling sailors in the water.”

Abe understood right away. Henry had known he would. “You could die and come back without anybody noticing?”

Henry nodded. “Under most circumstances. There was always the possibility that someone would shoot me at close range, in which case I would have to leave my life and make a new one.”

“Sure,” Abe said.

“One of my fellow midshipmen was called Archie Kennedy. After a good deal of time spent together, we became…close.”

“How close?” Abe asked meaningfully, lifting his eyebrows.

Henry feigned anger to cover his shock. “I beg your pardon?”

“Come on, Dad. Even the Village People knew what goes on in the Navy.”

“Well,” Henry said. “You have to understand…the England I grew up in considered homosexual acts to be illegal. Even if you were so inclined…”

“You didn’t talk about it,” Abe said. “I get that.”

Henry nodded, tamping down the fear of discovery that, even now, refused to let go of him entirely. “In answer to your question, yes. We were that kind of close.”

Abe nodded, but clearly he’d worked that out already.

“There was an incident in which…” Henry hated to think about what had happened. “We tried to launch a surprise attack, but as we drew close, Archie, who had epilepsy, began seizing. Noisily. I panicked and…and knocked him unconscious.”

Abe winced. “Was that necessary?”

“At the time, I thought so. With all that happened afterward…” Henry shook his head.

Abe’s voice was gentle. “What happened?”

“I left someone to guard him…to make certain he would be safe.” Henry shook his head. “I should’ve stayed with him myself. But I never thought…”

“Something went wrong,” Abe said, and it was an answer, not a question.

Henry nodded. “The man I left as a guard…I knew he disliked us both. I didn’t know how much. He shot me, and I can only imagine what happened to Archie.” Even now, he could remember seeing Simpson level the pistol at him, knowing without doubt that they were both going to die…and that the wrong one of them would recover from his death.

“You still don’t know?” Abe asked.

Henry shook his head. “I was never able to find out. Simpson’s shot should have killed me, so I couldn’t go back.” He stared into his teacup. “I’ve never forgiven myself.”

“But if this is the guy you saw,” Abe said, “that means he’s like you, doesn’t it?”

Henry shook his head. “All it means, Abraham, is that I saw a resemblance and translated it into an image of the man I knew. The mind can do that.”

“Somebody’s mind, maybe. Not yours,” Abe said.

Henry sighed. “If I really believed it were Archie…”

“You did for a minute,” Abe said. “And that’s good enough for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“He came this way at this time; he was probably going to work. So tomorrow at the same time, we stand outside in front of the store. If you see him, you can talk to him. If he sees you and knows you, we know it’s your Archie.”

“He’s not my Archie,” Henry said with a shake of his head.

Abe stood, pushing his chair in. “The way you talk about him, Dad? Pretty sure he is.”

***

Abe glanced at Henry as they waited out in front of the store. His father was trying not to look nervous, and it wasn’t working very well.

“Okay,” Abe said, “now you’re making me nervous.”

Henry cleared his throat, which Abe knew was his father trying to seem authoritative though he didn’t feel that way.

“We won’t see him again,” Henry said briskly. “He probably had an appointment that won’t be repeated.”

“Yesterday was Monday,” Abe said. “He’ll be here.”

Henry turned and gave Abe a quizzical look.

“Nobody makes appointments for Monday morning,” Abe said. “Coming in late on Monday makes you look like you don’t want to be at work, and maybe you don’t, but you definitely don’t want your boss to know that.” 

Henry nodded thoughtfully. “That’s very good.”

Even now, it felt good to have his dad tell him that. “I have my moments.”

Suddenly Henry reached out, clutching Abe’s arm in a bid for support. Abe followed Henry’s gaze to a small but sturdy man in business casual clothing. Abe could definitely believe that this guy had been a sailor once, though on second thought, it occurred to him that he knew next to nothing about sailors.

“That him?” Abe asked.

“I’m not sure,” Henry said.

Abe frowned at Henry. “You look pretty sure to me.”

“It looks so like him,” Henry said, and there was yearning in his voice.

As the man got closer, it looked as though he might pass them without even seeing them. Abe coughed loudly, bending forward for no real reason other than to get the man’s attention.

It worked. The other man turned to look at Abe, concern on his face. “Are you all right?”

Abe waved off his attention. “Fine, fine.”

“Are you sure? I could…” But whatever the man could or couldn’t have done was forgotten the moment he saw Henry. He took a faltering step toward Henry, reaching out a hand and then pulling it back. “Is it you? It is, isn’t it?”

Henry smiled. “Hello, Archie.”

Archie reached out again, resting a hand against Henry’s arm as though he wanted to make sure he was solid and not some kind of ghost. “How?”

“I could ask the same question of you,” Henry said, covering Archie’s hand with his own.

Archie exhaled slowly. “They told me you died, Horatio.”

“Horatio?” Abe said.

Henry grimaced slightly, looking at Abe. “The name I used then.”

“You changed your name?” Archie asked.

“I’m Henry Morgan these days,” Henry said with a small smile. “And you?”

Archie smiled shyly. “Still Archie Kennedy. I did try another name for a bit, but I couldn’t remember to answer to it.” He shrugged.

“Well,” Abe said. “Why don’t you both come inside and I’ll make you a cup of tea. With lemon. Lemon a day keeps the scurvy away.”

Archie looked faintly alarmed, but Henry touched his shoulder very gently. “It’s all right. He’s safe.”

Archie nodded, and together, he and Henry walked with Abe into the store.

***

Abe had kept to his word, making tea and then tactfully absenting himself from the kitchen. Not that Henry had noticed—he could scarcely take his eyes away from Archie. He’d never fully allowed himself to believe that the man he’d seen could be his old friend…his former lover…and yet somehow, here he was.

“Tell me everything,” Henry said, and meant it.

Archie nodded. “I came awake in the boat we’d taken, but I was the only one there, and I’d been left adrift. It didn’t take long for me to be picked up by the French.”

Henry winced. “You were taken prisoner.”

“Not for long,” Archie said. “I planned an escape, and luckily, it worked. I was back on the Indie within a few months.”

Henry winced again. “And Simpson?”

“Oh, he was long dead by the time I got back,” Archie said.

Henry knew logically that Simpson must have been dead for more than a hundred years, and yet the news shocked him. “Dead?”

“Styles swore up and down that he’d seen Simpson shoot you,” Archie said. “They’d finished the investigation, found Simpson guilty, and hanged him long before I came back.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Styles and the men might’ve been a bit overeager to tell me the details of Simpson’s comeuppance.”

Henry nodded. “I’m glad he was brought to justice at last.”

“So am I,” Archie said, looking uncharacteristically sober. “I was put in charge of your men. Didn’t exactly know what I was doing, did I, but the men were all affected by losing you, and so was I.”

Henry reached out to take Archie’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to find you, but I couldn’t take the chance. Everyone had seen me die.”

Archie looked a bit paler. “You did die, then?”

“Not long enough for it to stick,” Henry said, “but long enough to doubt anyone would believe me if I said it was a narrow escape.”

Archie nodded. “When the fire ships attacked…I was found after. Everyone said it was a miracle I survived. But I knew the truth.” He met Henry’s eyes. “I hadn’t. I felt myself go…and then I woke up alone, washed up on the shore. It was a miracle, only not how they thought.”

Henry nodded. He knew exactly what that was like. “Did you tell anyone?”

Archie snorted. “Who’d have believed me?”

Well, Archie had certainly learnt that lesson more quickly and easily than Henry had.

“I’m so sorry,” Henry said. “For leaving you unconscious in that boat. I was certain I’d killed you.”

Archie shook his head. “You take too much on your shoulders. Always did.” He rubbed Henry’s shoulder to comfort him. “Besides, look. I’m all right.”

Henry managed a smile, though it was more for Archie’s sake than because he felt like smiling.

“So,” Archie said. “Now you know how I’m not dead. How are you not dead?”

Henry almost laughed. “The name I go by now is the name I was born with. Henry Morgan.”

Archie pulled a face. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to call you that.”

“I don’t think I’d want you to,” Henry said, surprising himself. “You’re the only one left who knew me as Horatio.”

Archie’s expression gentled, and he nodded, silently urging Henry to go on. Henry had forgotten how much of their conversations had occurred without words, but he was beginning to remember now.

“Right,” Henry said. “I was a ship’s doctor in my first life, and I was killed attempting to free people who’d been enslaved and were being transported for sale. Like you, I felt myself die…and then I awakened elsewhere.”

Archie squeezed his hand. “It’s the same thing. It must be.”

“I’m sorry I never told you before,” Henry said.

“Horatio, stop apologising! You did the best you could; that’s all any of us can do.” Archie gave him a shy look. “Besides…I have you back now. I’m not sorry about that.”

Henry sighed. “I’m only sorry it took so long.”

“Yes, but what if it hadn’t happened for 200 more years?” Archie asked. “We never had enough time before, but we have it now.”

Henry smiled. “We do.”

Archie leaned closer, whispering. “How do you know the man who led us in here?”

“He’s my son.”

“Oh.” Archie leaned back, withdrawing. “And his mother?”

“I never met her,” Henry said, choosing to interpret Archie’s question in a way that would reassure Archie. There would be time to tell Archie about his wife, if Archie cared to hear about her…and for Archie to talk about his personal life if he wished to. All that could happen later. “We rescued him from a camp in Europe at the end of World War Two.”

Archie’s eyes went wide. “You were in Germany?”

“At the end of the war, yes,” Henry said. “I was a doctor who couldn’t die. Who better to do humanitarian work?” He looked at Archie. “What did you do in the war?”

“I wanted to fight, but they wouldn’t take me without proof I was old enough,” Archie said. “And of course any proof of my birth would’ve said I was too old.”

“You’re looking very well for your age,” Henry said lightly.

Archie gave Henry a playful glare. “I stayed in London and was an air raid warden. Civil defence.”

“And did you—“

“Three times,” Archie said grimly. “But I came back every time. You could do that; you could always claim you’d been blown clear of the debris if someone had seen you nearby.”

Henry nodded, running his thumb across the palm of Archie’s hand as he used to do years ago. “The world has changed so much since we were young. Sometimes I barely recognise it.”

Archie smiled, leaning in Henry’s direction. “I recognise it more with you here.”

That surprised a smile from Henry, and he gave Archie an appreciative look. “Likewise.” He paused, letting the moment sit comfortably before he changed the subject. “What do you do now?”

Archie smiled. “Not much call for the type of sailing I’m used to these days. I work in a repair shop.” He pointed toward the antique shop. “This place, is it yours?”

Henry shook his head. “My son’s. Though I help him identify genuine antiques when he asks for my help.”

“I might’ve repaired some of the things you sell,” Archie said. “I specialise in items most people wouldn’t know how to fix.”

Henry couldn’t resist. “You always were exceptionally good with your hands.”

Archie blushed, but his shy smile showed he was pleased. “I reckon you weren’t so bad yourself. What are you then—retired?”

Henry laughed. “Who’d ever believe I was old enough to be a pensioner? No, I’m a doctor—a medical examiner for the New York Police Department.”

“A doctor!” Archie looked impressed. “You always were clever.”

“None of that,” Henry said, a touch sharply. “You often saw things I couldn’t.”

Archie looked pleased, but then the light faded from his face. “I suppose you’ll have to be getting on.”

“To work?” Henry asked, and when Archie nodded, Henry shook his head. “I called in sick this morning when I knew I might see you. But I suppose you’ll be needed at work.”

“I should, but…I don’t think I can. You’re alive. You’re here. How can I go to work and pretend it’s just another day?” Archie held Henry’s hand more tightly. “How can I leave you?”

“You know where I am now,” Henry said. “You can always come back.”

Archie searched Henry’s face. “Do you mean that?”

Henry nodded. “When I saw you…” But his voice grew thick with emotion, and he had to stop talking. How could he explain what it had been to see Archie again, to know once more that there was hope in the world?

“I know,” Archie said softly.

Abe chose this wildly inopportune moment to reappear in the kitchen. “You boys catching up?”

“Not funny, Abraham,” Henry said, although a glance at Archie indicated that Archie saw more humour in the situation than Henry did.

Abe turned to Archie. “He probably hasn’t invited you to dinner yet, so I’ll do it. Stop by whenever you get out of work…and bring a change of clothes if you want to spend the night. It’s okay with me if you do.”

Archie’s eyes widened, and he gave Henry a look that could only be described as hapless.

“Abraham!” Henry said, properly aghast.

“What? You teased me enough about my love life growing up. Turnabout is definitely fair play.” He turned back to Archie with a warm smile. “It’s good to meet you, Archie, and I’m glad it was you he saw. He’s missed you.”

And with that, appearing satisfied with the chaos he’d left in his wake, Abe ambled blithely out of the kitchen.

Archie took a few moments to gather himself. “Your son is very direct.”

“Americans,” Henry said with a wince and a shrug.

Archie chuckled. “I see. And who was his father again?”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “Are you challenging my authority, Mr Kennedy?”

“Certainly not, Mr Hornblower,” Archie said, though the mischief in his eyes spoke to the contrary.

Henry toyed with his teacup. “He was right. I have missed you.”

“So have I,” Archie said. “Missed you, I mean, not me.”

“I knew what you meant,” Henry said. “Archie, I wonder…”

“Yes please,” Archie said, and suddenly they were standing, locked in each other’s arms, and the floor seemed to be the deck of a ship, and they were Archie and Horatio again, the past as present as it had ever been.

“Please,” Horatio whispered—and it was Horatio who said it, not whatever had become of him in the years since.

Archie answered by kissing him, and it was a slow, careful kiss, a reintroduction of the two of them, although it felt so familiar that Horatio nearly reached back to brace himself against a support beam that had only ever existed on the Indie.

“Steady,” Archie whispered, against Horatio’s lips.

“I don’t think I can,” Horatio said, too flustered even to respond in a grammatical way. “Archie…”

“Here,” Archie said, kissing him again, more insistently.

When they pulled back, both panting and breathless, Archie said, “I wonder if it would be too late to call in sick.”

“It’s never too late,” Horatio said, and he had rarely believed anything with his whole heart as much as he believed this at this moment. “Come here.”

And this time, at long last, it was he who kissed Archie.


End file.
